


Game to the Death

by KotDE



Category: RWBY
Genre: Canon Universe, Deadly Power, F/M, Gen, Limited Superpower, Major Original Character(s), Minor Original Character(s), POV First Person, POV Original Character, Pre-Canon, Role-Playing Game, Suspension Of Disbelief, Video Game Mechanics
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-21
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-09-24 04:23:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17093972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KotDE/pseuds/KotDE
Summary: "You, young Maru, have been bestowed a great ability and an even greater Semblance. But with great power comes an equally great cost, and you might not be able to pay the price more than seven times. Use yourself wisely, for you are not the protagonist and Fate never said you'd have it all easy. Darkness approaches, and many strings of life are ready to be cut by the ever-faithful Atropos. Will you be one of them, is up to you."- Unknown.





	Game to the Death

Had I been asked yesterday whether I believe in miracles and magic in general, I would have scoffed at the one asking and probably would have insulted their intelligence with some choice invectives. I’m not really sure on that front since I’m not supposed to swear at my tender age of fourteen and a half.

Or at least, so says Dad. He’s kind of a stickler for rules – worse than my Mum, honestly – and in his eyes, I’m still a seven-year-old kid he’d just picked up from school back in Atlas. Indignation slowly wormed its way up my throat, and I forced it to stay down, sighing. Damn puberty and my emotions. Reading about this sh… erm, stuff was a completely different matter than experiencing it on my own. Not to mention certain body parts awakening and all that.

Damn, I got sidetracked again. I was talking about magic, wasn’t I? Well, if not for a certain occurrence yesterday, I would have never thought that magic ever existed.

**~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~**

It was a completely normal and boring summer day. In just a week, I was to enrol in a Huntsman Academy here in Vale and begin my lifelong journey full of exterminating Grimm, the soulless creatures of darkness that threatened the very existence of humanity. A bit fluffy and poetic, but sue me. I’m a child who read one too many books in his spare time, so I had a bit of a… shall we say, flowery speech. And, apparently, whoever decided to make my life more interesting to watch had the same problem.

_Welcome to the System, Player Unnamed!_  
From here onwards, your life would be governed by the Rules of the Game!  
We highly recommend starting a tutorial in order for you to acquaint yourself with the Rules and System in general.  
**Start [Tutorial Stage I]?  
{Y} / {N}**

Should it be mentioned that I was completely dumbfounded upon seeing this right in front of my eyes? And that I missed a step because of it while going down the stairs for breakfast? So, that happened, and as I was gently nursing my wounded head, I noticed the pain to recede much faster than it did normally. I’d attribute it to me being high on adrenaline, but then not even the most crazed adrenaline junkies claim to have their HP bar displayed just on the edge of their vision.

Highly intrigued, I pressed {Yes}, and the world around gradually stilled and went all monochrome, like in those old movies made in Atlas during the Great War. It was both incredibly cool and scary.

_Congratulations!_  
As we mentioned, this particular tutorial is meant for you to get used to the User Interface, or UI for short.  
[Stage I] contains basic information about various UI elements such as their function, commands etc.  
Now access the main menu by swiping the air with your hand from right to left, or simply by intoning “Menu”. Note that the command does not need to be vocalised, only thought.

I did as I was told to, trying the gesture first. It eagerly responded and a new window popped into existence before I even finished moving my hand.

_The main menu is the main part of UI and contains every single sub-menu in the Game, such as Inventory, Status, Skills, Professions and so forth. In order for you to be more at ease, there is also a “Settings” tab at the bottom where you can customise the UI to your heart’s content._

_Let’s have a look at your Status. It can be either clicked through the menu or voice-activated without the menu._

_Your ‘Status’ displays all of your equipped items in the slots designated and shows them around your full-sized portrait on the left. Every slot has a pictogram in it depicting the type of item that can be put in it, like Helmet, Chestplate or Boots. Note that the Ring and Weapon slots are doubled._

_On the right, you can notice your name, level and class (all currently empty), as well as three bars – for HP, MP and Speed respectively. HP stands for Health Points, which are, essentially, your life-force. Should they drop to 0, then your character is considered Dead. (More about Death mechanics can be found in the FAQ located in Settings) MP stands for Mana Points that allow you to wield powers of supernatural, bend the laws of physics and be a general badass. Speed quantifies your general speed – that of running, striking opponents, casting spells and so on. Fighting an enemy with a higher Speed than yours is generally not recommended, as they would be able to literally run circles around you. Speed can be drained by various negative status effects (i.e. Debuffs), long periods of exhaustion and lack of sleep._

_In combat or upon receiving damage, these bars become visible in the top left-hand corner of your ‘screen’ next to your portrait. Customisation is possible._

_Now, let’s go to your Skills._

A quite comprehensive tutorial, might I say. Even someone unfamiliar with the RPG genre would be able to understand what’s being said. Now, what was next? Skills.

_‘Skills’ tab displays all of the skills available to you, both passive and active, as well as race-specific positive status effects – Buffs. Skills can be unlocked in two ways: through game progression and through learning._

_Sometimes, while advancing in level, you will find new skills, both active and passive, added to your arsenal. These skills are class-specific, and cannot be learned or taught to someone. Nonetheless, they are very useful, as they do not require time or effort to learn and master, their power depending solely on the player’s stats._

_On the other hand, you can also acquire skills by learning them. The most coveted and versatile, they can be improved upon and taught to others. However, they are not acquired instantly and require a teacher with a sufficient skill level, their power depending on the skill level and the player’s pertinent stats._

_Currently,_ _you are at Level 0, with no skills. However, upon completing the tutorial, you will progress to Level 1, allowing you to choose a Class. (More on Class mechanics – Tutorial Stage II)_

Hmm, that’s interesting. Might need to look into this later.

_The ‘Professions’ tab contains your professions – complex skills that are not strictly related to your Class and cannot be used in combat. Prime examples of such would be Smithing, Enchanting or Tailoring. Each of them level-up with use and unlock new recipes and tools along the way, though they require specific crafting materials to do so. For a player, this is one of the major ways to earn money, second only to grinding and questing._

_‘Achievements’ are self-explanatory – this tab shows you all of your achievements you have gained during gameplay. They do not affect your character in any way and are made purely for cosmetic purposes. Note: since the Multiplayer function has been permanently disabled, your Achievements will show as Badges in a separate ‘Cosmetic Inventory’._

_‘Quest Journal’ lists all the quests you have currently active, failed or completed. Clicking on a quest gives a detailed tooltip about its conditions, rewards and penalties (optional)._

_‘Inventory’ is a storage space for all your items. Currently limited to 25 slots, it can be expanded either through acquiring additional bags or through levelling. Every twenty-five levels give fifteen additional slots (75 in total). Your ‘Cosmetic Inventory’, however, is unlimited, though the only things that can be stored in there are Badges, Quest Items and other cosmetic items._

_Now, let us proceed to Stage II of this tutorial – Battle Training!_

As soon as these words appeared in front of me, I was abruptly whisked away, the world around me becoming black.

**~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~**

Landing right on my soft backside with an audible grunt, I shook away the disorientation and looked around.

Apparently, I was unceremoniously dumped in some kind of forest. The atmosphere around me was quite eerie and foreboding, what with the lack of wind and sound sending chills down my spine. The tree leaves and the grass were still, unnaturally so, and when I tentatively stepped onto a patch of grass, I left behind a defined footprint.

“So it’s not just me going crazy,” I softly murmured.

_Welcome to [Stage II] of the tutorial!_  
It contains valuable information about the game’s combat system, as well as different Classes and their mechanics.  
Now, let’s begin!

A typical green-skinned orc materialised out of nowhere with a club and a shield. It was grinning widely, emitting undecipherable noises all the while.

_For this stage, your opponent would be an Orc. Known for their dense skin and equally dense skulls, they have high Strength and Endurance, along with moderate Agility. To progress in this tutorial, kill the Orc._

_Now, since this requires you to have HP and MP, you are free to either skip this stage at once without loss of EXP or choose a class now to get assigned some stats._

I pressed [Choose Class] since I already knew what kind of fighter I would be. All those years of gruelling training under Dad’s hand would not go to waste.

_Class chosen: [Lancer]!_  
+10% EXP when fighting with a polearm;  
+50% EXP to Lancer-oriented Learned Skills;  
+33% DMG against armour.

_Excellent choice! A Lancer is a class specifically tailored to wield polearms – spears, halberds, pikes and other exotic types like the naginata and the Qiang spear. While a Lancer has less Strength and Endurance than his fellow melee classes, he makes it up with high Agility and Speed. Starter stats:_

**_Strength:_** _8.00_  
**Agility:** 11.00  
**Endurance:** 6.00  
**Intelligence:** 4.00  
**Wisdom:** 4.00  
**Efficiency:** 9.00

_Now, let’s give you a weapon, shall we?_

A polearm then materialised out of thin air right in front of me, as the Orc did a bit earlier. It resembled a half-pike, but was significantly shorter, resting at only one and a half metres give or take, just a head shorter than I was. Taking it in my hands, I experimentally did a few narrow swings with it, followed by a sharp stab. As expected, I didn’t struggle at all. The length was perfect, as was the balance. I could even do some pretty amazing acrobatic tricks with it, should I so desire, but right now I had another thing on my mind.

The Orc had to die. I shivered involuntarily, but steeled myself – it wasn’t anything but a dumb, mindless NPC, and thus it wasn’t a murder. Hell, the Orc was simply standing there bashing his own club into his shield, and the shield already had several dents in it! Dumb animal, indeed.

Moral dilemma resolved, I stepped forward and performed a standard thrust at the mob’s midsection, which it tried to parry with its club. Thankfully, the club proved itself to be far slower, and I’ve already retracted the weapon by the time the Orc even managed to put its club in a poor guard-like position. Stab, stab, sidestep, narrow slash. Stab, stab, back-step, lunge. This pattern was already ingrained in my muscle memory from all the time Dad let me wield a stick with a blunted blade on it, calling it ‘a training weapon’. The process was made especially easy by the fact that the Orc was dreadfully slow on the uptake, simply taking the hits, occasionally managing to block some with his shield.

Then, as its health neared 20 per cent, the Orc’s eyes narrowed and went blood red.

_Attention! The enemy is enraged! x2 to all Physical stats, x0.5 to all Mental stats!_

Sadly for the Orc, his increase in brute force and speed did absolutely nothing. He was still slow, just… not as much as before. His HP then hit zero and the mob disintegrated into silvery dust that gently floated down, disappearing after a second or two.

_Excellent job! You have defeated your first opponent! +100 EXP!_

_Now, how about a group of weak Goblins?_

True to its word, the game spawned in five nasty-looking goblins armed with daggers. I frowned. Even though I knew that battles against Grimm were rarely one-on-one, I always assumed my teammates would be able to keep them away. But here…

_Oh, you’re at an impasse? Let me help you!_

**_Skill Gained: [Whirlwind]._** __  
30 MP – 40 DMG/enemy. Prereq: 150 Speed. Distance – 1.5 metres.  
A four-strike three-dimensional slash combination designed to keep enemies at bay; it is a feat of acrobatics that few can match, let alone counter. The user does two 180-turns separated by a 90-turn, delivering four diagonal slashes to everyone within striking distance and inflicting grievous wounds.

My eyes sparkled at the description. It sounded so cool, and I’d bet Dad would be dumbfounded when I would show him the skill. He never taught me anything as badass as this!

Confident, I stepped forward, and as soon as the goblins rushed to impale me with their daggers, I began executing the skill. To me, it seemed like I’ve been training it my whole life – the movements felt fluid and graceful despite the fact that I was currently swinging around an oversized toothpick in all but name.

The first two goblins squealed when their frail bodies were suddenly cut from groin to shoulder, and they went flying away, evaporating into dust. The other three were badly wounded, but alive. One was even trying to pick up his own… entrails… e-u-rrgh. The very sight made me want to vomit.

They all bled out in short order, of course, and I managed to keep my lunch where it belonged. Win-win!

_Remarkable! A flawless victory!_  
You are ready to finish the tutorial!  
Proceed?

I didn’t hesitate to press [Yes].

_Congratulations on completing the tutorial! +1 000 EXP!_  
Achievement gained: **[Novice Player]**!  
You have levelled up! [[0 à 1]]

_We kindly remind you that while the world is indeed a game, death is nevertheless permanent._

Another flash and I was unceremoniously dumped back into my bedroom.

“Wow, talk about uncomfortable travelling methods,” I grumbled, nursing my sore bottom and slowly rising up from the floor. “But that aside, I can’t believe I was just given the power of a game character… That’s so cool!”

Managing to call up the status window, I began distributing the five stat points I’ve received from the level-up, throwing one in STR and two in AGI and EFF each. Instantly feeling the rush of strength and power, I noticed my arms growing just a tiny bit more muscular and my movements gained a little more grace. Even though I still had some of that teenager awkwardness, it was less prominent than before.

Grateful for that, I closed all windows and headed out to train. Even if I couldn’t raise my stats that way, at least I’ll get more practice before the academy.

**~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~**

When Dad came home, he was understandably baffled when I showed him my new move, [Whirlwind].

“Maru, where on Remnant did you learn that?!” his tone wasn’t scared, per se, but… concerned, more like.

“Well, Dad, it’s kind of a long story…”

And so I told him about my gaming powers, explaining the system of stats, damage and skills and how it now applied to me. Needless to say, he was amazed at first, but the further I went, the more his face morphed into an expression I recognised as his “plotting, come again later” face he’d sometimes show when he and Mom began their prank wars.

Yeah, they both were consummate pranksters in their youth, and that probably was what drew them together back when they met at the Vytal Festival sixteen years ago. Don’t ask me more; I was hoping to remain as clueless as possible about that. Adults and their quirks, I swear.

“So, you can become stronger upon attaining a higher ‘level’, which can be raised by slaying Grimm, doing occasional quests and making things?” I nodded. “And you also can instantly learn skills given to you by this System, but studying on your own still takes time and effort?” Again, a nod. He summarised the whole thing quite well, I might say. “Then we start training you immediately! No sense to waste a perfectly good day just lying around!”

And so we went out to the backyard where Dad began putting me through my paces with the old training staff I always used. It had a sharpened metal cap on one end, imitating the sharp point of a spear. It could be easily converted back to a staff by twisting the cap off, training me in wielding a long weapon without the danger of me wounding myself too badly.

Today we were training acrobatics, it seemed, for he motioned me to ‘disarm’ the spear, leaving the long wooden pole instead. I warmed myself up by doing katas, increasing the speed every time I finished the set. The rule here was to judge your own strength and stop at a manageable pace; else you might end up botching the exercise and hurting someone. Dad was warming up alongside me, his speed far outstripping mine, and I couldn’t help but watch as his own staff twirled around his torso, almost as if it was flying by itself. I could do the same, twirling I mean, but my speed was… not on the level necessary for that. Hell, I barely saw the thing!

Not long after we’ve finished our warm-ups, I went to the training dummy, but Dad motioned me to stop and come to him. We never spoke during training, so I learned to understand his gestures long ago, not that they were complex.

As soon as I neared him, I had to evade a surprise overhead cleave followed by a horizontal strike aimed at my legs. Jumping was an ill-suited move in this situation, so I did a forward roll and immediately jabbed at his own feet to force him off-balance.

The jab was immediately parried, but I managed to convert the momentum from the parry into a diagonal cleave, which he evaded by ducking underneath it and thrusting his staff at my midsection. Only a hasty back-step saved me from losing all my breath from that manoeuvre – Dad specifically targeted my solar plexus. Sidestepping his attack, I once again exploded into motion, my staff twirling in my hands like a windmill, trying to find a hole in his defences.

To my dismay, he had none. Every single cleave was redirected, forcing me to lose just a tiny bit of that precious momentum, every jab was evaded. And when he blocked things he couldn’t otherwise dodge, my arms shook from the impact. Honestly, it was as if I was fighting a stone wall, not a living person. But since I was now a video game character, I didn’t suffer from fatigue or muscle ache, while Dad didn’t have that.

But eventually, he realised that I wasn’t tiring, and the way we were fighting, he would be the first to lose, so he changed tactics and went on the offence, forcing me to hastily retreat from the veritable hail of strikes, each of them perfectly capable of bruising or even breaking bones. His speed gradually increased, and not before long I found myself incapable of keeping up, missing more and more strikes that went past my parries and blocks. And my HP was reflecting that, declining steadily until I had only ten per cent left and I saw a red siren flashing near my HP bar.

“Stop!” I shouted before my health could drop any lower. “My HP is low! You’d kill me this way!”

As soon as he heard that, he went pale and dropped his staff, examining me for wounds. Finding none except some bruises that already began colouring, he asked, baffled:

“What is going on?”

And I explained that my HP was actually dropping after every strike, but it wasn’t noticeable until the system flashed an alert for dangerously low HP level. And, should I hit zero HP, I would keel over dead even if my wounds were no more threatening than bruises

My explanation satisfied him, but he did hit me with the staff several times for not paying attention to something this important.

“Now, we wait until you regenerate to full and start again.”

I shuddered. He’s a demon, my Dad. But I still love him.

**~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~**

Six days passed since Dad began training me in earnest, and just for that, he ordered a proper training half-pike, similar to the one I’ve wielded during the tutorial. Mock spars, hitting the training dummies – all of that was in there, but he also finally deigned to unlock my Aura.

Finally, after fourteen years, I will get what most kids my age already take for granted. He never said why he didn’t unlock it when I was seven, like everyone else, but I guess he had his reasons. He’s my Dad, after all – mysterious goofball who is a retired Huntsman and my teacher to boot.

**_Skill Gained: [Aura] Level 1 / 50.  
_**_Passive Skill._  
The user’s Aura is the manifestation of their soul. Aura tempers one’s body, protects it from damage and can be used against the Creatures of Grimm. Serving as a prerequisite to some high-tier Skills and Weapons, Aura enhances every aspect of its user.  
**Effects:** +33% to all stats, the ability to enhance existing skills with Aura, ability to use [Aura-Specific] skills, eventual access to [Semblance].

I was exhilarated. As I basked in the receding glow from my own Aura, I felt something firm settle just above my heart, pulsing in sync with it and giving me the oddest feeling of protection. Nothing ever could compare to that, and I didn’t even hear my Dad asking me if I was all right. Answering that I was, I prepared to train even more than before.

He taught me several polearm skills – **[Fierce Lunge]** , **[Snake Bite]** , **[Rapid Triangle]** and **[Lightning Fall]**. The first one was a simple lunge enhanced with a swift Aura burst to give some acceleration; [Snake Bite] was a two-hit skill: stab to the midsection, fore-step, slash at the neck; [Rapid Triangle] incorporated three consecutive swift stabs – one to each leg and then to the head. [Lightning Fall], however, was a very challenging skill to get right. In fact, it was so taxing on the MP reserves to perform I could only do it once before requiring rest for at least ten minutes before trying again. Not to mention that if I failed to properly execute a skill, I invariably received a debuff that stopped my MP from regenerating for twenty minutes. The skill was complex and had crucial timing, hence the MP requirement. But it was well worth it in DMG.

Used against a single foe, [Lightning Fall] utilised Aura to launch its user seven metres into the air, where you had to reorient your body upside down. Then you had to blast yourself at the target like a homing missile with Aura expelled from your feet. It was a magnificent skill, and it dealt 340 DMG to the enemy, which was almost enough to kill me twice over.

But when I asked him for more skills, he said I had to master those four first before he’d teach me any more, so I grudgingly retreated for now.

But there was some silver lining to the situation – my body never suffered from any wounds, be it a paper cut or a big bad bruise from training. Sure, they were visible, and the occasional cuts even bled for some time, but it was only an illusion in order to not freak out everyone around me with insanely fast regeneration. After the first day’s accident, I never forgot to check my HP and MP bars. Don’t want to end up dead in a training spar, right?

**~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~**

Apparently, I got enrolled in the most prestigious Huntsman Academy in Vale – Signal Combat Academy for Gifted Youths, or simply Signal. There were alternatives, of course, but then no other academy in Vale offered such a wide range of accommodations. Almost half of the entire Island of Patch was the Academy’s campus, the rest of it occupied by several small villages where most of the teachers lived with their families.

The academy was known for its nigh impeccable record of admittance – almost 100% of its alumni went on to become Huntsmen, and more than eighty per cent of them went to Beacon. In fact, Beacon even offered a scholarship to those Signal graduates who displayed a lot of skill, and this way it was almost a given that if you were a student at Signal, you would appear at Beacon after graduating.

However, it was achieved only because the drop rates among students were sky high. The first and third years were the hardest, with more than half of the children quitting. This way the academy ensured that it trained only the best of the best.

I considered myself to be the best. No second thoughts, no doubts. I had my Aura unlocked, my Semblance would come around eventually, and I had the most overpowered ability in the world at my disposal.

Thus, when I entered the academy’s assembly hall, I held my head high and my steps were firm. Or at least I thought so. Around me was a crowd of kids approximately my age, with most of them trying to look tough and failing, just as I probably did. Ugh, I was never good with crowds and people. And there goes my courage, down the drain, whistling a merry tune.

Thankfully, I was saved from making myself even more nervous and miserable than I was by the headmaster going up to the podium, presumably to make a speech. He was lean, with balding blue hair and vivid emerald eyes. I could see a tail swishing behind him, indicating his Faunus heritage, but I couldn’t say what species he belonged to. It was definitely a mammal of some sort, though.

“Welcome, students, to your first year at Signal Combat Academy, the most prestigious institution for training young Huntsmen and Huntresses in all of Vale. My name is Dew Quicksilver, and I’m the headmaster of this academy. All of you have untapped potential to become the best, and it is our job as teachers here at Signal to tap into that bottomless well and nurture you to greatness.” His voice was soft, yet carried that steely undertone only those like my Dad could reliably pull off. He wasn’t someone to be trifled with, for sure. And what’s with his metaphors? Does he have an obsession with plants or something? “We hope that most of you will grow on this soil and eventually graduate to spread your bright petals for the world to see, but the weather here is harsh, and not all saplings have the strength to brave the current. It is only up to you whether to grow or not, and we can only help you to make the right choice.”

I clapped alongside the others. It’s official; the headmaster here is either strong enough to display his oddities publically, or he’s off his damn rocker. I vote for the former. No sense to have a mentally disturbed person to lead a prestigious combat academy, after all.

Meanwhile, he politely coughed, and the noise quickly died down.

“Thank you. Now, we will proceed to the next order of business.” He fell silent for a second. “All of you were assigned to your classes, and if you do not know your assignment, it is displayed on the bulletin board located in the entry hall. If you did not find yourself there, ask a professor for assistance. On the topic of lessons: all your theoretical lessons would be conducted in the classrooms assigned to your subject teacher. For example, those of you who have Maths with Miss Diamond will always have Maths in classroom eight. There is no exception, so the age-old excuse “I was late because I couldn’t find the classroom” would find you in serious trouble. Practice is conducted on the academy grounds, specifically, on the fields pertaining to the sport in question. Note that the practice lessons’ plan is also available at the bulletin board changing every Sunday, so pay attention to the timetable. Tardiness and forgetfulness are not the traits tolerated here and may lead to your expulsion.”

Wow. I gulped. He was quite intimidating by himself, and his serious face only added to the intimidation factor.

“The full list of rules and punishments is, once again, pinned to the board and also printed in the student’s handbooks you will receive after orientation.” He smiled, diffusing the tension a bit. “On a lighter note, the handbook also contains the comprehensive guide to the academy, its teaching staff, every class and extracurricular activity available, as well as your personal Student ID. Take care not to lose it, as it is necessary for entering the campus and all the buildings, including the dormitories for those residing on the academy’s grounds. The ID can also be used as a credit card, allowing you to earn and spend money freely.”

The headmaster then glanced at his watch, his eyes widening marginally.

“Oh dear, it seems we’re just barely on time. Now, don’t let me hold you from your orientation any further, and allow me to congratulate you on your admittance to Signal.”

We clapped again, this time more energetically, and began to filter out of the assembly hall into the corridor, where a signpost was pointing to our next destination – the orientation.

While I was walking, I took time to admire the Signal’s hallways’ intricate design. It was minimalistic, yet not to the point of being bland. The pastel colours and wide archways supported by ancient-looking columns only added to the inexplicable pull I felt. The windows were wide and let in enough sunlight to make ceiling lamps nigh obsolete, the rays drawing various shapes on the tiled ceramic floor. There were several leather couches lined across the wall, some of them occupied with students who were looking at us with a mix of amusement and anticipation.

Not before long, I’ve reached the classroom where my first orientation lesson for the day would be – Classroom Seven. According to the timetable, this was the classroom assigned to Professor Xiao Long, our Martial Arts instructor. Since the timetable didn’t mention gender, we were left in a state of wonderment. Some guys were already huddled in a corner, animatedly describing what they imagined our professor to look like, and I, admittedly, did succumb to some of the images they provided. Who’d not want his professor to be a busty blonde that eagerly shows you how to punch stuff, her… assets… jiggling… I groaned, wishing I had some cold water to shower myself with right now. These thrice-damned perverts would be the end of me, I swear. And the worst part is – they’re openly displaying their perverseness and don’t give a shit. (Oops, there goes my promise not to swear.) Meanwhile, I’m stuck to discrete observation, hoping for a random panty shot and dreaming about ‘good stuff’ at night.

I was jerked from my lamentations by the sound of the door suddenly opening, and I looked at the person entering the classroom, as did everyone.

It was not the perverts’ turn to groan in despair and the girls’ to rejoice, for our teacher was a lean blond male with a roguish look and tanned skin. And quite a load of charisma, it seems, since he had the gall to wink at the female half of the class, sending them into Wonderland instantly. A clean knock-out, 10 points out of 10, I take off my proverbial hat.

Coming to a stop and leaning on the teacher’s table, he introduced himself. “My name, kids, is Taiyang Xiao Long, and I would be your Martial Arts teacher and combat instructor for your four years here at Signal. Before I explain any further, any questions?” the class was silent. “None? Well, that’s disappointing. Last year I was bombarded with questions about my sexual orientation,” at this, the whole classroom erupted with blushes, “and whether or not we will fight Grimm, but it’s alright anyway. I‘m perfectly straight and married, by the way, so,” he sighed dramatically, “I’m sorry, dear girls. And yes, we will take occasional trips into the local forests to fight some live Grimm, as well as the specimens the staff catches occasionally for combat training.”

I grinned. Dad didn’t let me handle any Grimm, citing my lack of experience in fighting them and the fact that I didn’t have my Aura unlocked, but now that I was at Signal, he wouldn’t be able to use this excuse next time!

Professor Xiao Long, meanwhile, continued to explain. “Some of you might have received some prior training in martial arts and other areas of combat, but here it all means nothing. I will hold all of you to the same standard, and failing to meet it will result in bad grades. There will be no playing favourites. There will be no infighting.” He glared at us. “And there will certainly be _no disobeying my direct orders_. I am your teacher, and my word is law while I’m teaching you.”

I gulped. Professor Xiao Long might be even scarier than the headmaster, and that’s saying something.

“Today is the day of orientation, meaning that I am to explain to you how we will conduct our lessons. The main premise is simple. Every lesson I will ask you to prepare a short, a page or two long, essay on the martial art I will assign. The criteria are that the essay should contain at least four points of interest: the art’s history, main katas, strengths and weaknesses, applications to your personal style of combat. While some of you might not develop a style until your second year here, it is nevertheless a mandatory part. Analyse yourself, how you would prefer to fight, and apply the first three points mentioned in the essay to yourself. This is how you would eventually create your own unique style that makes use of your strongest parts while covering your weakest ones.”

I nodded, enthralled with the smooth way the professor talked. His voice wasn’t particularly loud, but the silence allowed it to envelop the room, eliminating the need for a microphone.

“This also applies to those who had some training already, for it is only when looking at ourselves from a different point of view we can find things lacking in some way or other. Remember, for a fighter, it is not the Grimm that is the ultimate enemy, but the stagnation.” He coughed, throat apparently sore. “Now, that was everything I could think of concerning our lessons. Questions?”

I raised my hand. “Yes, Professor. What about weapons? Signal is known for the fact that every alumnus has their own handcrafted weapon. Will there be training with weapons this year?”

“Ah, ever an eager one.” He smiled benevolently. “Yes, on that particular topic. I myself am an expert on unarmed combat and CQC, so that isn’t my strong suit, unfortunately. But rest assured. Signal has experts on various weapon styles – from the classic shield and sword combo to some of the more exotic ones, like war scythes, kusarigama, nunchucks and many others. During the next month you will be free to attend classes on those weapons you find natural – this is the “Weapon Handling” class you all have in your timetables – and at the end of the month, you will submit your choices to me for evaluation. Despite having little to no experience fighting with weapons, I have a keen eye regarding combat. So no fooling around with ‘cool’ and ‘awesome’ weapons. This choice will make or break your Huntsman career: even though you can change your choice, later on, the years you have lost on that front will pull you down anyway.”

I nodded and sat down. No need to make myself stand out any more, I will ask the professor to sign me up for the polearms class after the lesson ends.

As if my question was the straw, the camel’s back broke and the floodgate opened. He was bombarded with questions ranging from “When will we play soccer?” to “Will you go out with me, professor?” Creepy.

Eventually, he got fed up and angrily shouted: “SILENCE!” Deeply breathing in, he continued. “This. Is. Not. A circus! As I’ve said, during my lessons my word is law. And so is my authority as a teacher. Should you question it and act out in a manner that is unbefitting of a Signal student, you will be expelled. In a heartbeat. I have permission to punish you however I see fit, limited only by the school rules. Other teachers have the same permission, given to us explicitly by the headmaster. This includes expulsion. If I find you lacking, there are at least four good combat academies in Vale proper. Your behaviour is as important as your skills because there must be no whiny, disobedient brats at the battlefield, regardless of how good they are at killing Grimm.”

The bell tolled, and we trudged out of the classroom. I, though, came directly to the teacher. He didn’t acknowledge me at first, but then he saw my face and grinned at me.

“Ah, you’re the one who was interested in weapons! Anything I can help you with?” I nodded.

“I want to submit my weapon of choice, please.”

His eyebrows lined up with his hairline. “Oh? So early on? Then I might be right that you had some previous training?”

“Yes, I did.” Then I realised I didn’t offer my name. “Oh, pardon my rudeness. I’m Maru Natrius, nice to meet you, Professor Xiao Long.”

He laughed for a second, and then stretched out his hand in a greeting. “Respectful, aren’t you? You remind me of my daughter, she’s exactly the same with strangers her age– shy and polite.” I blushed, eliciting more laughs from him.

“O-On the topic of my weapon choice, Professor,” I stuttered slightly, mentally cursing my shyness, “I’d like to choose the polearms, a half-pike or a partisan specifically. I was trained by my father since I was eleven, and I’m quite used to wielding polearms…”

“Ah, it is no great deal, Mister Natrius,” he led me to his table where I could see some pre-prepared applications for weapon training. “Every year there appears several people with prior experience with a certain weapon, be it from home-schooling or from the many preliminary academies, and I find it very handy to keep some filled applications on hand. Just write your name, tick the class you choose, sign at the bottom and you’re all set. In fact, you can ask to join the second year’s practice in about three days. That’s when the polearm class begins, and I will alter your schedule accordingly. Now go on, you don’t want to miss your next orientation lesson.”

I nodded and ran to the doors, thanking the professor on the way.

**~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~**

With the exception of Martial Arts, Preliminary Grimm Studies and Professions, other classes were not worth the time they spent on orientation. Seriously, why do we need to know how the Maths and History classes would go, if they were boring before that, they wouldn’t become interesting now! Sighing despairingly, I looked over the timetable for tomorrow.

It seemed Signal operated on an eight-period system, starting the day at 8 A.M. sharp for the first lesson, each lesson going for 40 minutes. Between periods there were breaks lasting from 10 to 20 minutes, and usually, the day ended at 3:30 P.M. Most of the lessons were double periods, like Martial Arts, Physics and occasionally Geography.

Tomorrow my class had a double Maths period, Professions, History, double Grimm Studies and double Biology. Joy. At least the day wasn’t totally down the drain, with the Grimm Studies and Professions saving the day for now. Reassured, I left the main building and went to the dormitories. Dad applied for a place in my stead, because we lived on the opposite end of Vale, close to Beacon, and the ferry between Patch and the mainland was slow and took valuable time out of the day. So that’s how I ended up in the student dorms instead of going home for the day. Yeah.

The dorms had double doors that opened only if you had the student keycard, just as the headmaster said, so I simply slid the mag-strip through the reader and the door audibly clicked, letting me in. The interior was just as well-decorated as the main building, the only difference being automatic shutters on both the doors and windows that detracted from the overall grandiose look just a bit. Shrugging and mentally applauding the security in this place, I went to the third floor where my room, 316, was located.

On the way, I passed three other doors, all of which required an ID, and finally reached my room. It had the card reader on it as well, but there was an addition underneath – a code lock requiring four symbols. My first attempt, 3160, elicited an error, but 0316 did the trick and I finally got into my room. Imagine my surprise when I found the instruction on how to change the code _stuck on the other side of the door!_

Thinking it to be some kind of joke, I changed the code, locked the room and began unpacking the bags that were already there. My clothes, including the spare school uniform, went into the closet; books found their place on the shelves; various knick-knacks I took from home were here and there, overall giving the room a more warm and welcome feeling. Not that it was drab in the first place, but nevertheless.

Taking the holo-terminal out of the heaviest bag, I put it on the table and turned it on. I wasn’t a fan of Scrolls much, only carrying one around for calls and occasional notes, instead preferring holo-terminals. They were much more versatile than the Scrolls, not to mention faster and more responsive. And the powerful CCT receiver allowed for unprecedented coverage, even in those areas where Scrolls couldn’t pick up any signal. But the thing was heavy, about three kilogrammes or so. Compared to a Scroll, which weighed no more than a hundred grams or so, the portable holographic terminal I owned was incredibly bulky and obstructive. I, however, didn’t mind the extra weight, since I’ve gotten used to it over the years. Even after Dad bought me a Scroll, I never used it beyond calling someone and taking occasional notes like a shopping list or reminders to do something.

But I wasn’t allowed to bring it today, so it arrived separately in a bag. Tomorrow, however, would be a whole another story. I smiled.

**~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~**

The days went on, and soon two weeks had already passed. I was visibly stronger than before, having gained five more levels, but the way up to the top was still long and arduous. The school was equally boring except for my three favourite subjects: Polearm Training, Martial Arts and Professions.

Most of the EXP and skill levels came from the training class, obviously. The teacher, one Professor Amaranthe, was a strict middle-aged woman who wielded a spear like it was an extension of her arms.

I was the only firstie in the class, so on my first lesson, she asked me to show her what I was capable of with a half-pike. Apparently satisfied, she then pitted me against her other students, and while I managed to defeat one or two, I handily lost to a buff boy who effortlessly twirled a shortened naginata and sent me flying with just a gust of air from that.

Apparently, that was a wrong move to do, for she immediately did the same to the guy, only this time he _rocketed_ away from her, only managing to stop because he hit the opposite wall like a sack of bricks. Then she tore him a new one, berating him since he broke the rules of mock sparring in her class.

Those rules were actually very simple: Aura was used only for defence, not offence (this only applied to direct Aura manipulation, doing Aura-enhanced jumps and lunges as I did was okay); use of live weapons was prohibited until our last year here; and last, but not the least – treat your opponent and your teacher with utmost respect. She did say, however, that dirty tricks were allowed unless they carried the chance of permanent crippling damage.

She was otherwise very patient, and never shouted at someone unless they did something incredibly dumb. Her explanations of various techniques were crisp and precise, and it was no trouble at all to pick it up very fast. All in all, this was the easiest class in Signal hands down.

Martial Arts class with Professor Xiao Long was interesting too, and I’ve learned a lot about how I fought. I already knew I was a fast fighter, but I also realised I had to increase my INT and WIS so that I had enough MP to fight for an extended amount of time. Of course, Efficiency could do it as well, but sooner or later I would hit the point when simply dumping points in EFF would be detrimental to me, and for that, I’d need those mental stat points. Besides, the tooltip for INT said that it determines my ability to resist mental attacks and manipulation, so… Yeah. Don’t want to become a drooling idiot when I’m fighting someone with a mind-altering Semblance.

I also increased my Endurance, which helped me to lose less Aura in spars due to the fact my body was durable enough on its own. The addition of heightened HP regen was a bonus.

But Professions… Oh boy. That particular class was easily on par with Polearms in terms of awesomeness. As soon as we entered the classroom, the professor, a man old enough to be my grandfather, gave us a questionnaire on what we would like to study here. The “Weapon Assembly & Repair” was marked as mandatory, with two more subjects as optional. I personally chose Tailoring, as I’d like to craft my own Huntsman uniform someday, and Metalworking – which included all kinds of ways to shape metal, from forging to plasma cutting. As soon as I did, though, I received a notification that those three were added in my Professions list, with new recipes available. Needless to say, I didn’t miss a single lesson since then and was frequently praised by the professor.

All in all, the days at the academy were quiet, until our first trip to the forest, as Professor Xiao Long promised us.

The night before I developed a bad case of insomnia all of a sudden, and so did my classmates, though that didn’t affect me one bit. Since I didn’t have to sleep and eat, strictly speaking, I had noticed some dirty glances thrown my way from those who were in a particularly bad shape in the morning. I apologetically shrugged, as if saying the whole matter was out of my hands. And it was! After all, it wasn’t my fault I was so… cheat-y.

The weather outside was quite cold, as the winter was approaching faster and faster every day. The trees dotting the landscape were already shedding leaves and preparing for the snow to settle, and the wind buffeted against our clothes, causing some of us to shiver. Aura helped mitigate the worst of it, yes, but it still generally wasn’t advisable to strut around in light clothing, because using Aura to protect yourself from the cold drained it, and that wasn’t something you’d want when fighting Grimm. Apparently, some of my classmates didn’t get the memo.

When we got to the gates, Professor Xiao Long and Professor Amaranthe were already there, both clad in armour and warm garments, ready to inspect us. When they saw the sorry state we all arrived in, Professor Xiao Long laughed for a bit and sent those who were under-clothed back to the dorms, saying that he didn’t want to be sued for _their_ own stupidity after _their_ parents came to take back _their_ bodies from the academy’s morgue. After that, we departed from the academy’s grounds and followed him into the forest at a running pace.

Soon afterwards the class was split in half, six of us going with Professor Amaranthe to take a less travelled path while the others had to follow Professor Xiao Long to a spot he claimed usually attracted Grimm for some unknown reason. I, naturally, chose the Polearms teacher, as she inspired just a tiny bit more confidence than the easy-going blond who was our Martial Arts trainer. And I was more familiar with her style of fighting. Yes. That’s it. No nefarious plots to admire her forms, no sir.

Trekking through the forest was strangely calming. We ran at a decent pace northwards, hints of an old path visible underneath our feet. The only sounds we could hear were the rustling of leaves, wind howling in our ears… or was it wind? I strained to listen. The Grimm studies class in this regard was invaluable, telling us that young, immature Beowolves like to howl when Huntsmen approach, thinking that would scare us off. And if my ears did not deceive me… no, they didn’t, the professor also heard that and turned sharply to the left, where the howls originated from, us following her trail.

The undergrowth thickened, and I caught myself occasionally jumping over some particularly annoying obstacles using Aura. Had we been trying to be stealthy, this could have potentially made our small group visible to every Grimm in a kilometre-wide radius. It was like stepping on a particularly dry twig in a deathly silent and hostile forest – equally embarrassing and deadly. But we weren’t going for a ninja-like approach now, but for a “bulldoze our way through and leave them dumbfounded” one.

Taking out my weapon for today – a partisan that was given to me after I went to the weapon storage and asked for a polearm – I jumped over a rotten tree trunk and proceeded to use it as an unholy offspring of a walking stick and a vaulting pole, using it like a monkey would its tail. My small weight and enhanced strength made the task of leaping between trees all the more easier. My classmates took the page out of my book and picked up the pace.

Soon the seven of us burst into a wide clearing, almost colliding with a large pack of Beowolves. I noticed that there were at least twenty of them, with three of the Grimm being Alphas – a more vicious and heavily armoured variety, generally leaders of the pack. To see three of them in one place was highly abnormal because these guys were quite territorial.

“Group up!” Professor ordered immediately. “Cover each other, don’t let the Grimm overwhelm you!” She then took off, aiming her weapon – a reddish trident – at the closest Alpha. It roared intimidatingly, and it spurred the horde of Grimm in action.

The five of my classmates hesitated for a second but assumed a passable circle formation. I didn’t join them, though.

I wanted a fight, I wanted EXP, I wanted loot. And right now these Grimm were the ones happily providing all of that to me. Some time ago I tinkered with Settings and enabled a handy function that displayed a small HUD over the heads of other people (I hesitated to call them NPC), that allowed me to see their HP, name and level. Nothing more than that, sadly, but it was quite enough.

As soon as the first three beasts got close enough to me, I used [Whirlwind] to drive them off. While the first two got off relatively lightly, the third one received a diagonal slash right over its ugly muzzle, dealing a critical hit and making its HP fall down to 75 or so per cent. Not losing any time, I executed a handy combo I’ve devised myself, chaining [Fierce Lunge] and [Rapid Triangle] together, forcing the Beowolf to fall back, its HP bar now flashing yellow and dangerously close to dipping into the red.

But I paid for that stunt in spades, because in my haste to dispatch the Grimm, its brethren lunged at me from behind, double-teaming me and leaving me with about 40% HP and barely enough Mana to execute one [Lightning Fall]. A few wide slashes of my partisan scattered them, giving me some time to get my heartbeat under control.

It was strangely exhilarating, being locked in a deadly match against a worthy foe and knowing that your next misstep might well be your last. The animalistic bloodthirsty expressions the Beowolves wore on their muzzles only intensified the feeling that threatened to incinerate me from inside.

The world stilled for a microsecond, and then I leapt high up in the air, higher than I’ve ever done during training. Twirling in the air like a demented ballerina and aiming my partisan exactly at the spot between the three Grimm unlucky enough to encounter me.

“I hope you’re hungry, because DINNER IS SERVED!”

My Aura produced a blast not unlike that of a high-calibre cannon, accelerating me almost instantly to near terminal velocity. Next thing I knew was the all-encompassing darkness.

**~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~**

Shiva Amaranthe, known to her dear students as Professor Amaranthe, was understandably confused when they entered the clearing she chose as their temporary camping spot. After all, she didn’t expect to find two full-fledged packs of Beowolves led by two Alphas and one Royal. Hell, she’d prefer to face five Ursae Majors instead of fighting the clusterfuck she was now saddled with. At least the bears were predictable.

The main problem here wasn’t in numbers. No, had they encountered just the Beowolves without the leaders, they would’ve wiped them out in no time flat. But the addition of the Alphas and a Royal allowed the otherwise dumb horde of Grimm coordinate and cooperate. The Royal Beowolf she was currently fighting was a right pain in the ass, and being as old as it was, the Grimm immediately singled her out and herded her away from the students. She could only order them to group up before she had to fight for her life.

Evenly matched, she nevertheless managed to take out three lesser Beowolves and severely wound one Alpha before she heard a shout from high up in the sky.

_“I hope you’re hungry, because DINNER IS SERVED!”_

Then an enormous blast of air knocked everyone down, save for her and the Royal. She watched, almost as if in slow motion, as the boy that came to her class two weeks ago executed a suicidal attack, crashing into the ground at what seemed to be terminal velocity. The impact shook the earth so hard she fell on her butt, idly wondering if the seismometers placed around Vale registered that as an earthquake.

But what made her jaw fall down in astonishment was the fact that the Royal visibly became _afraid_ of something. Its’ tail no longer swishing angrily, the Beowolf she’d fought whimpered while looking at the crater the boy created and ran away, disappearing in the woods. The other wolves followed, and she did nothing to stop them. She stood still, her thoughts running in circles.

What in the seven hells was that?

**~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~**

Taiyang Xiao Long, Huntsman extraordinaire and a proud father of two girls, had a decidedly bizarre day. First he had to backtrack because a black cat crossed his path when he was going to Signal, then he narrowly avoided being hit by a sack of concrete powder that fell from the roof; apparently, it was the time to fix the damage dealt to the rooftops before the winter properly set in. And, to top it all off, the field trip to the forest had to be cancelled prematurely because the other group got attacked by two packs of Beowolves led by a Royal.

Once is an accident, twice is coincidence, and thrice is enemy action. And Taiyang was on the warpath against this ‘enemy’.

When they all returned to campus, he was called to the infirmary by Shiva, the other professor who was tasked with caring for the kids today. Tai knew then and there that something bad happened. And his sixth sense for trouble didn’t deceive him, for he found an emaciated shape of a boy lying on the hospital bed, with many beeping instruments hooked up to him and two IVs stuck in both his arms. He looked like shit, and probably would have felt like one too, had he not been sedated and dosed to the metaphorical gills.

“What the fucking hell is going on here?” he growled, looking at Shiva and the doctor, who was typing something on her terminal.

“We aren’t totally sure,” the doctor replied, her voice tight and measured, “but what I can tell for sure, is that the boy lost one-seventh of his soul, probably as a result to his suicide attack on these Grimm.”

He was baffled. Suicide attack? Lost a part of his soul? What was going on?

“Now, I can only make conjectures based on what we all know about Aura and human souls,” the doctor replied to his unasked question, Shiva also listening closely, “and these conjectures aren’t necessarily right, but my version is that he finally unlocked his Semblance. I can’t say anything about what it does, but one thing is certain – every time he will use it, he will take one piece of his soul, convert it into pure energy and… do something with it. Maybe, as he’s a Huntsman and a kid, empower his strikes or make a big-ass laser beam. That ultimately lies with him and his understanding of his soul.”

“But… what happens when he uses up all his seven… no, six pieces?” Shiva asked, her composure shaken. His, for that matter, was shaken as well, but he managed.

“He just dies. Or turns into a Grimm. Or winks out of the damn existence. Hell if I know. The hard fact is that he, as a human and a person, will cease to exist. Nobody can live without a soul. Even the… the thing he is right now.”

“Thing?”

“Oh, yes. And here we come to the juiciest detail. Now, I can’t say whether it was a result of him unlocking his Semblance or it happened in the past, but one thing is crystal clear. He’s no longer a human.”

Taiyang was quick to anger, just like his blonde daughter. “What?! What in the seven hells are you trying to insinuate!” The doctor was unfazed, however.

“I. Do. Not. Insinuate. He is no longer a human being. He has no organs, no blood, no saliva, no brain, nothing. Everything inside him… or it, is a homogenous blob of a substance I was unable to identify. Where it holds its brains, is everyone’s guess, and I don’t even have the faintest clue how it can generate Aura. But my experiments with its tissue samples yielded some results.”

The doctor fell silent for a moment to catch her breath. “The substance is unique in the fact that upon reaching a certain threshold that depends on several factors, like the sample’s size, the substance instantly breaks down to water, carbon dioxide and nitrogen. Nothing else. And it possesses Aura of its own, just a trace amount, mind you, but still. To decompose it, one needs to break through the Aura first, then ‘deal damage’ to it until it becomes just a bit of water and gas. Needless to say, if a sample taken from his body has these… unique abilities, it is of no stretch to extend the same to his whole body.”

“So… it means that if something manages to break his Aura and do enough damage to him, then he just… becomes a puddle of water and nitrogen? That’s it?”

She nodded. “And the same would probably happen to him when he exhausts the last of his soul.”

**Author's Note:**

> This can become a great work, or a failure. I don't know, I'm not a great writer, honestly. But I will try to make it good enough so that I would not gag in revulsion when reading it.


End file.
